Apologies
by Guro of Flowers
Summary: What happens when Ginny confronts Harry about dumping her. Harry/Ginny all the way.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything...

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I sat on my bed thinking about how I was going to spend another day with him. Why should _I_ be the one worrying? _He _broke up with me, not the other way around!

I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, angry that the tears had come so soon. Meaningless tears. If he wanted to break up, that was fine with me!

…_kind of._

I walked slowly down the stairs, getting ready to paint a smile on my face, fake or not.

"Good morning Harry!" I greeted with false brightness. He looked up.

"Morning," he replied without much emotion. I had to force back a scowl. He was _not _allowed to be miserable when _he_ had brought this upon himself.

I sat down next to him and attempted, with an open mind, to start a conversation, but my ex-boyfriend would only answer with a terse _yes_ or _no_…even if that wasn't an appropriate response.

I sighed and gave up on that approach.

"What's wrong?" I asked directly, hating the edge in my voice. I knew it meant I was frustrated, which in turn meant that I cared.

About him.

Yeah, right.

"Nothing," he told me gloomily. This was obviously _not _working. How was I supposed to fix what was bothering him if he didn't cooperate?

I sighed heavily, and my chair creaked below me.

"Harry," I said tightly, "why in Merlin's name do you look so miserable?" He didn't even answer, and I felt anger darken my smiling mask into a soft frown.

…soft frown, venomous scowl; same difference.

"Harry," I said again, my voice barely keeping below a yell, "_You're_ the one that broke up with_ me_!"

I regretted the words the moment they left my mouth. I felt my cheeks flush, turning a bright red to offset and somehow compliment the darkness of my mood. I stood to leave, but Harry grabbed my arm.

Had this occurred a few moments earlier, I might have simply been glad to elicit a response; unfortunately for Harry, I was beyond caring about relieving his self-inflicted misery. I glowered down at him, a glare he couldn't see as he stared at the table.

"That _is_ what this is about, isn't it?" I continued. If he wouldn't let me _leave_ then by Merlin he was going to suffer my wrath. Especially since his pessimism, moodiness, and all-around unpleasantness have been infecting the air around him since that break-up.

"Ginny I—" he started. I watched him expectantly, holding back my rant.

"Just forget it." He sighed, releasing my arm.

"No," I told him, fuming. It was his fault for stopping me the first time. Now I was worked up. "I _won't_ forget it! Ever since _you_ broke up with _me_,_ you've_ been the one moping around!" I failed to mention the tears that welled up in my eyes whenever I thought of him, because that wasn't the point.

"Does that seem backwards to you?"

I watched his eyes close, his jaw lock.

"Well?" I asked, glaring down at him. "Don't you have anything to say?" He shrugged. I wanted to scream or slap him…or both. I compromised by raising my voice a few decibels and clenching my fists.

"Harry!" I shouted. "You can't keep this up forever!"

He didn't respond with words; he let his eyes meet mine for the first time since Dumbledore's funeral, and I almost gasped. The deep green spheres of kryptonite, overflowing with longing, with sadness and regret, were more beautiful than I remembered. It was enough to scare my anger away and render me powerless.

"In fact," I forged onward, gathering my scattered thoughts, "you can't even keep this up for the next five minutes." My voice lowered as my glare melted into a gentler gaze.

"Because I hate seeing you like this." I was whispering now, looking directly into his eyes— no, into his soul.

"Because I love you, and I think..." I took a deep breath, refusing to blink. "I think you still love me, too."

I felt the warmth of his hand suddenly on mine, and I glanced down, breaking the eye contact but not the connection that I knew we had never really lost.

"Ginny you _know_ I love you." I held my breath, but I knew I recognized the tone in his voice.

"But you also know what I have to do. I'd never forgive myself if you were hurt because of me."

And the moment was gone. I snatched my hand away and my anger relapsed.

"You'd never forgive yourself?" I repeated icily, making it a point to avoid his eyes. "Well, don't you think that _this_ hurts? And yes; this constant pain in my chest is because of _you_!"

I ran and refused to let myself think until I reached the haven of my room, where I had barely slammed the door before I could hear his footsteps again.

"Go away!" I yelled.

"Ginny, please, can I just talk to you?" Harry pleaded.

"You had a heck of a lot of chances already," I called back, fully intending to blockade the door if necessary. Then—

"Gin, hear me out!"

I cursed myself for it, but I went against everything logical opened the door, some kind of bloody Gryffindor bravery making me unable to stand down from a challenge.

It was a bad idea. He was looking at me, his eyes begging. "Please. Let me talk."

Those _eyes_. They were pure emotion, too genuine to argue with, too vivid to ignore.

"Go ahead," I mumbled, closing my own eyes to escape his, "but I'm not guaranteeing an answer."

"Ginny, I'm sorry about everything and… It's… I… You know I'm rubbish with girls," he stammered hopelessly.

Had I been in a better mood, I might have lightened up; but after everything, that wasn't the case. So instead of cracking a smile, I broke down into tears.

At that point, I think Harry must've panicked, because instead of trying his way with words again, he bent down and kissed me.

I froze. That prick!

But his lips felt so soft and sweet, and fighting was getting us nowhere, and this seemed like a pretty good solution, so I settled on forgiveness and began to lean into the kiss.

And the prat had the nerve to pull back.

"If you'll deal with me, I'd, err, like to pretend that I never broke up with you. I'm sorry! Really, really sorry," he finished with a hopeful smile.

Sorry didn't even _begin_ to cut it.

But despite that and against my better judgment, I smiled back and wiped my eyes as I rolled them.

"Just know that if you _ever_ try to apologize like that again, you _will not_ be so lucky."

I rolled my eyes once more and leaned in for another kiss, if only to get that ridiculous grin off his face.

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The end. Review if the mood strikes you. Thanks.


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